Listening To: 'Screaming Infidelities - Dashboard Confessional'

That ugly, mainstream whore dumped me.
I think she was my soulmate.
I'm so switching to boys for good...

Listening To: 'Broken Glass Syndrome - Halifax'

OMG diary. I know I haven't written in like, forever. But, I have been so busy with my new girlfriend! You would really like her. She is dark and mysterious and she really understands me.

We are totally and deeply in <3 like <3 with eachother. Today we ran around Rundle Mall laughing and making out in front of old people, then we swapped t-shirts (mine was a little too small for her, but she still looked super rad hot) and went to Maccas. I had like a whole cheeseburger and didn't even go throw it up - just in case we decided to make out again.

 - Which we did. For like, another four hours.

*sigh* I have such a great feeling inside, diary. Sort of a queezy feeling, but not like when I eat solids or see Ellen Degeneres try and dance (she is such a fugly dyke). Me and my girlfriend are going to be together F-O-R-E-V-E-R!

Listening To: 'Hollywood Hills - The Academy Is...'

Sometimes, I wish that I could just escape the black abyss of my life. Today a pigeon crapped on my brand new Converse™ Chuck Taylors. I feel so, violated, diary... And then I just randomly met Mark, that guy I hooked up with at Shotz™ last friday, and he was acting so wierd. I mean, he was acting like a TOTAL homo. He was being sooo queer, so I was just like, 'Later, faaaaag'.

Meanwhile, how hot is it to watch emo boys making out™?

Here  is another poem diary. I wrote it on the busride home.

Bird. Pigeon bird.
does bad things to my
shoe! Ruins my shoe!
Tears! Tears!
What did my shoe every do to you?
To you? Pigeon. To you?
You are dirty,
like a cheap crackwhore.
Two dolla? Two dolla?
I hope you die! I hate you!
Like a rash! Like tinea,
in my shoe. My innocent,
pure shoe.
You raped my shoe!
If pigeons wore shoes,
I would steal yours and poo in it,
while you sleep.
But pigeons dont wear shoes,
or sleep.
Pigeon man,
you are grey and have feathers.

x--riley--x

Listening To: 'Cute Without The E - Taking Back Sunday'
Mood: Angstful

Diary, I'm never talking to my family ever again. This morning I asked my mom if we had any milk left, and she totally said 'yes, we do', and then AFTER I poured my cereal, I went to the fridge. And, diary, there was no milk. And then she was like, 'why are you crying? I think theres some long-life in the pantry...we can always get some more from the store... What are you doing with that knife, Riley? Riley, stop cutting yourself...'

And then, this afternoon, my dad walked in on me while I was putting on my sister's eyeliner, and he was like 'Why are you putting on eyeliner?'. Like, I need a reason? Like, what, I have to tell my parents why I do every little thing I do? He practically accused me of being gay. Which I'm not. I just sometimes like to make out with boys. And besides I need eyeliner because I have low cheekbones and a heart-shaped face...

I hate them sooooooooooooooooo much right now... I'm going to go take some pictures of myself crying near a dead tree down at the park...

Stars and straps,

x-riley-x

Listening To: 'At Your Funeral' - Saves The Day

Today I went to the city and sat on some steps for a few hours, mostly writing poems and adjusting my hair. I just hate how people passing by always look at me like I'm strange. They're the ones who are strange - they all look the same in their ralph lauren polos and stupid camo shorts. They're like clones.

After that, I went and bought some jeans just like the ones Michael and Rochelle have. Oh, and I really want a Midest Traders hoodie... ALL my friends have one and I want one so bad.

Here is a poem I wrote today.

Darkness,
eats my soul.
Consumes passion! blood,
blood passion! passion! passion!
You are untouchable,
like a highly-placed book,
on a shelf, that gives me blisters.
Infection! Infection!
And your pages give me papercuts,
passion! passion! I would slit
my throat, just to read you,
to be near you.
But I can't, because you hate me,
you never loved me. you don't have
passion! passion! my tears are like
blood. For you,
my black rose.

Listening To: 'Hand Of Blood' - Bullet For My Valentine

Dear Diary,
My name is Riley. But you can just call me 'alone'. Sometimes, my life feels like such a deep, black void. No one understands me... except for you diary... and the boys from Taking Back Sunday...

 Here is a picture I drew in math today. I'm going to call it 'Hope'.
 
Cuts and Kisses,

Riley

Welcome to emo guide. You're rad, I'm rad, lets hug.
I know this page is like, totally empty right now (like the deep, black abyss that is my soul...) but I promise it will be full of useful emo tips very soon. I'm going to go make out with some boys.

Sign my guestbook,

xo emo